Monochromatic Sound
by The Two Sides Of Fate
Summary: HichiHime drabble collection. May contain BullIchiHime drabbles as well. Occasional hints of IchiHime. All genre's but smut-sorry!- Insanity may ensue.
1. Her Voice and Her Heart

_I have finally suscumbed to the temptation of creating a HichiHime drabble collection. Much love to the fantastically awesomesausce group on FLOL who take part in the HichiHime FLOL thread who inspired me to do drabbles in the first place. Love you guys (even the ones i'm not e-married to). So as if that wasn't any indication, this collection will consist entirely of HichHime. There will likely also be some BullIchiHime and slight IchiHime every now then. It may be anything from fluff, to angst, to horror, or to complete crack. Unfortunately though, unlike with the other members, I am not exactly at the age to right anything smutty and even if I was, I probably wouldn't know how to do it anyway so the rating will probably stay at 'T'. Another thing that will effect the type of drabble it is; I write Shirosaki a little differently in each drabble. I try to stay in character but since we don't know everything about our dearest hollow the levels of his insanity, sinsterness, agressiveness, and etcetera may vary (I like redeemable Shiro but I often write him dark a lot in my drabbles). And, erm...I think that's it. Oh yes, and I, of course, do not own Bleach. If I did, Shirosaki would be a main character and Ichigo, him, and Orihime would all be happily married to each other (Yes, that's right HichiIchiHime, FTW. [the order matters])._

* * *

She was the last person in the world he thought he could be compared to.

_He wanted her voice, her words to strike through him._

He could see her through his eyes, he heard every thought that ran through his head, could sense his movement. He could_ see_ her, but as usual the King was too stupid to realise was right before him.

_He wanted the way she moved._

She made him sick. He didn't notice why at first but after they went to find her when she left, it slowly began to sink in.

He was similar to the King, as much as he hated to admit, hated the King, it couldn't be helped. He'd been Ichigo once. It drove him insane knowing that. _He'd been Ichigo once._ She reminded him over and over. God, he hated it.

_He wanted her soul. He wanted to devour her._

She was like the King too; Careless, fragile, weak. They lunged head-first into things they weren't ready for. They tore themselves apart without considering the consequences or even thinking about who they were dragging down with them. _They never showed their true faces, only their masks. _Why was it that both the King and the Queen were so pathetic?

_He could practically taste her. Sweet, yet strangely bitter. A bit salty, a little too much like something from a nearly forgotten memory that no longer belonged to him-a little too much like rain.  
_  
But, it was that he was like _her_, that he hated most.

_"She's calling me"_

He had to laugh at the irony upon seeing her in that white arrancar uniform. It only further punctuated what he knew. It figured.

_"She's calling me, I can hear her."_

They told him.

_'...Take care not to die before I show up again!'_

They both told him.

_'Don't die, Kurosaki-kun!'_

And he still failed to listen.

But _he'd_ heard her. She knew he was here, he could feel it. Somehow she knew.

_"Stand up."_

She reminded him of everything.

He wanted to take everything that belonged to him, everything that _used_ to be_ his_. His life, his freedom, maybe even his name...he couldn't have his heart back though. If he did then he'd just be Ichigo again. He'd cease to exist.

_'If I could have five lifetimes...'_

She'd left. She dangled her heart from a string before their blind eyes and left.

_He wanted her heart._

The last thing he wanted to do was to be like Ichigo. The thing he hated most was to be like _her_. They made him so sick, he thought with a deranged laugh. It was always one or the other.

_"Stand up."_

But it was the only way, no other path to take but every direction to look. They made excuses for each direction they sought after.

_"I..."_

_'I'll get stronger and...next time...I'll definitely protect you.'_

_'I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Kurosaki-kun..._

With an exasperated sigh he stood and grinned up at the darkened, cracking sky. He couldn't stand either of them. It was no wonder hollows ate the souls of those who were closest to them in life. Who would want to be reminded of their past lives on a daily basis like this?

They were changing into each other. Slowly, in imperceptible slips and sudden lurches...

So pathetic...

Looking outside through King's dead eyes, he knew if he didn't do something he'd lose his chance. He'd lost his heart a long time ago, and the King had just lost his. He'd be damned if they lost hers as well. Then they'd all be hollow.

He closed his eyes on focused. There was only one path. And since they were becoming each other anyway there really wasn't anything he could do.

He wanted that heart. It was the only one that would work for him. Because they were the same, he could take that heart without being torn to pieces. He'd devour it one day...

_"I..."_

**"I will protect her." **


	2. Victory and Loneliness

_LOL, I know "WTF? Holy quick update!" This won't be happening for long, I just have a bunch of drabbles saved on my comp that I want to get out so prepare for several sudden updates all at once for today. XD_

_Also, forgot to mention. I wrote four one shots for HichiHime that were originally created as drabbles. While the drabbles I post today may be short, you can expect the rest to be around bweteen their size or maybe just a bit bigger than this. I usually can't write a short story so goodies for you I geuss. ^^;_

* * *

When she'd first met the hollow it was true that he had frightened her. The dominating control he seemed to hold over her had been overwhelming. But things were different now.

"Are you stupid? I'm not lonely. Why the hell would I be lonely?"

She shook her head sadly at him as if she were a mother speaking to a naive child. A very stubborn child at that.

"Well for one you are a hollow," she began to count off for him. "Or, at least, so you _say_ you are..." She added suspiciously.

"Yes I am," he assured her through gritted teeth. "But how does that make me lonely exactly?"

"Well Onii-chan was lonely-"

"I'm not your brother," he cut her off coolly.

"No...but..."

Orihime bit her lip. No. She wouldn't lose.

"You told me you and Kurosaki-kun were split in half. That _has_ to be lonely."

He gave her a deadpanned look. "Hime, we hate each other. Do you think I give a shit if I was split apart from him?"

Darn it. But her point still stood right? Didn't it?

He rolled his eyes and kissed her fiercely. He was trying to distract her, she could tell. His body was pressed so close against hers...but that was his mistake. She wouldn't be distracted this time.

She gasped for breath when he finally pulled away, a triumphant grin spread across his face. He thought he'd won.

"The...rain..."She huffed. His triumphant grin vanished leaving in place an expression of confusion.

"The rain...you say...you hate it...even though you...smell like it."

He jerked back in surprise then quickly narrowed his eyes. "You idiot, it rains in our inner world when _he's_ upset, not me. And it ain't my fault he's so emotional."

"So you admit you get upset too?" she pushed, attempting to mimic his mischievous smile from earlier. It didn't even matter to her that he was the one who had her pinned. He was the king of psychological warfare but, hey, he must've called her Queen for _some_ reason.

He sighed, "Give up, Hime. You're going to lose."

This would've been a good time to cross her arms if only he'd let them go. She decided to settle for a pout of defiance instead.

He grinned wildly and his eyes became those of a predator. "Oh you are so done now."

And with that he had her pouting lips claimed in another set of vicious kisses. He wondered if there was seriously no other way to shut her up. Not that he minded this.

He pulled away again to allow her a chance to breathe.

"You...taste like rain...as well..."

Something she clearly _didn't _need.

"Don't you ever quit?" he asked, incredulous.

Her only response was a narrow-eyed smirk. Victory would be hers.


	3. Flowers from an Admirer

_The first drabble I ever wrote. And by first, I mean _first_. This is probably from way before I even thought about pairings. It's teensy but I like it._

* * *

Orihime picked up the flowers and stared at them. They were the most unusual flowers she'd ever seen. The petals were absolute white, not a washed out cream but a harsh pure white. Each center was a pure black abyss. It made her feel that if she stared at them too long she would fall inside. It, at first glance, appeared to be some kind of rose but the petals were shaped all wrong. They were shaped just like... her hairclips. The entire stem, which was such a dark green that it too appeared black, was adorned in thorns.

The flower's beauty was indescribable. It made her both want to cry softly and scream with every last remaining amount of oxygen in her lungs. Scream as if she were being physically torn apart. It was like she couldn't breathe when she looked at it, like she was drowning. It threatened to devour her.

As she clutched the flowers, a red liquid began trickling from her palms and between her fingers, weaving its way in a stream down her arm. She shivered. She couldn't let go of the terrible bouquet.

Orihime's breath came out in strangled gasps. Tears began to roll down her face. She was shaking hard but frozen all the same. More chills climbed up her spine and she slowly began to move her eyes over to her shoulder. It didn't matter; she could already feel the presence behind her.

A pure white hand with black nails slipped over her mouth then, the other hand gripped her arm. It's sharp nails dug into her flesh. She felt the thing... the person, lean against her back. It lowered its head gently into the space between her neck and shoulder. She could feel it kiss her hair aside sending a final shudder through her body. Its breath stung in her ear, burning, but when it spoke her heart froze over.

"Hello...Princess."


	4. Numbers

**Seven**

Cut fifteen in half what do you get? Seven point five; but that's not a whole number. Get it? It's hollow. Then there's his birthday, July fifteenth; 7/15. So now if we reverse it what does that make me? Let's go with seven. What do you say, Princess? Sounds good right?

**Six**

How do you like it? Hm? What's that? I'm sorry, I can't do that. Now don't you try to pull anything or I'll crush all six of those little fairies of yours. Such a shame it would be too. I love how you keep healing yourself like that. Then with the way you act…Mmm, it's like your innocent every single time. I can just keep taking it away.

**Five**

You like that number don't you? Why else would you chose five lifetimes? I'm surprised you felt that way, but don't worry, I don't mind. Five lifetimes with you? I don't mind it at all.

**Four**

I've heard that four's unlucky. I remember that other bastard, number four. Do you remember when we saved you from him? You owe me, Princess.

**Three**

Three's a nice number. It suits you much better than six. They say most things come in threes. They might be right for there are three of us. But, it won't stay like that for long. I promise…

**Two**

What do you say to just the two of us? No I'm not really asking for your opinion but it might just make a difference of how we'll keep this going. I can get rid of him if you want. Then I'll never have to leave you again. Ha, you're so typical; still your expressions are so delicious.

**One**

Hm, you're right. Two is wrong. I've already claimed you and you're just like me anyway. One makes much more sense. Now, stop crying. You're only trying to fool yourself anyway. You don't care about him anymore. I'm the only one you want. How about this? Instead of five lifetimes for him we'll do seven instead, one for every sin. What do you say, Princess? Sounds good right? Yeah, I thought so…


	5. Monster

He's not always a monster. Sometimes he's different. I don't know what to think when he's like this. Sometimes I feel like it's worse.

He'll never say a word when he's like this. He loses all expression and his eyes become even more unreadable than before. Like he's not really awake or maybe he just...I don't know. I don't understand him. I really don't.

His eyes are half-lidded and he moves slowly; dreamily, like a ghost from an old children's story, one of Grimm's fairytales; a sick fantasy of dying hearts.

His hands float through the air, the black nailed fingertips itching to touch my hair. I stay perfectly still, becoming stone. He drifts behind me and _gently_ sifts through the strands. I like the way it feels but I keep quiet. I'm afraid to talk when he's like this, afraid any sound will cause him to snap. He doesn't.

His arms move up to wrap around my neck. He leans down and lightly kisses the top of my head trailing down my hair to brush by my ear. It always seems like he's about to whisper something. Even though he usually doesn't, I always expect it.

I feel his head nestle into my shoulder and his light wispy strands of hair brush against my cheek. I'm amazed at how soft it is. It tickles slightly but I still don't move. That's my job; to stare at the floor.

He didn't tell me not to move. He didn't tell me why he does this. I think the abuse is better. Why wouldn't it be? The abuse is sure, the pain is clear. I understand it. He taught me how, I think. I want him to hurt me.

He reminds me of another when he's like this. Yet, he's completely different. I sometimes wonder if it _is the other _peeking through, if maybe he's just doing this because _the other_ is in control. For some reason, I don't want it to be. I don't want this just to be _the other_.

This is why I wish he'd hurt me. I don't like 'softness' anymore. It's too confusing. I hate it. I prefer simplicity now.

"...Love ya'..."

I don't understand him. I really don't. I wish he'd hurt me instead.

* * *

_Title is based of the song 'Monster' by Meg and Dia but my song muse in the actual making of this was 'Sway' by the kooks. For some reason that song gives me good HichiHime inspiration._


	6. Finger Painting

She finally understood bloodlust. "It took ya long enough," she could almost hear him laugh. She almost wanted to laugh herself. It was different than she thought it would be. Her throat constricting tighter, she wanted to taste it, but not the blood per se. What then? A small tired giggle escaped her cracked dry lips.

That feeling of needing to laugh and cry at the same time overlapped with the thirst like it was meant to join together from the start. It probably was.

There was a static ringing in her ears along with a continuing rhythm, a beat, guiding her fingers across the cream white walls of her room; her canvas. She thought it'd be different. Sounds and images of demons, vampires, and all the creatures from her nightmares were circling and twisting through each other in the shadows of her room. It wasn't like that. It was…like him.

She smeared another abstract line onto the wall. Finger-painting. It had been a while since she'd done that. She remembered always wanting to have more colours, more than there was, so she could create a rainbow or something even more magnificent. Not this time. She only wanted one colour. There only was one colour anyway. Everything else was monochrome.

She paused her dripping fingers for a moment and smiled. That described it perfectly, the sound; a monochromatic sound. She moved her fingers to form another smear. She had one for every dream so far, every significant memory, but they blended together in a way that made them seem as if they were single lines. Through the dull feeling in her chest she was pretty sure she was pleased, or…something of the likes.

Would he be proud of her? She wondered. She wished she could've gotten to see what his expression would be. Maybe for once she'd discover what he was really thinking. Maybe it felt like this. He was a hollow after all, perhaps they were similar. If that was true then surely he'd be a little proud right? No, she laughed. She had to think at least a little rationally. He'd probably hate it. Or maybe…she shook her head. She had never known what that feeling was called exactly, it was just _there_.

She'd name it after him. Everything had to have a name. It wasn't real until it had at name. She wanted to scream it out loud but, sadly, knew she couldn't. His name was silence, a sharp piercing silence like the static in her ears. It was kind of pretty like him.

She wished she could feel it a little better. It wouldn't have mattered if it hurt as long as she could feel everything. A little bit of everything.

She was nearing her last line now. That last couple strokes…she'd make them the most precious, even if there had been happier moments, moments that had actually been real to her. She had to make them the prettiest. And a couple for him; One for his eyes, one for the way he moved, the sound of his voice, his smell…

She heard the doorknob turn behind her and she gasped, whipping round to see the door open and to see him step inside. She watched his grin fade away as her marks made their way around him, all her vampires and demons escaping past.

She'd almost burst out his name right then and there but she managed to gain a hold of her tongue. Still, his eyes shot to her as if she'd called him. Technically she had.

She beamed up at his face, taking it all in, a gift she never imagined getting. His eyes moved from her to the walls, shock masking his features. She could see her work reflected in his eyes, her beautiful swirls and lines of red, taken from her own self, though it had much more life in it on the walls than in herself, and in his eyes than on the walls. Yes, she knew exactly what bloodlust was.

"Hime…What have you done?"

And what it meant to her.


	7. Blood

Blood.

There was…so much of it. It coated her hands in many thick sticky layers. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. Her heart slammed painfully against her chest as she slowly felt all the life leaving her body.

Not again. This couldn't be happening again. No…

"S-soten…kishun…" she whispered through still lips. An orange glowing wall of glass formed over top the both of them. Her hands shaking, she reached out and touched his shoulder. He didn't move.

"Please no…please wake up…please…no, no…" Tears streamed down her face as her groggy brain connected what she'd done. Her fault.

If she'd been paying attention…if she had reacted faster…

It was happening all over again. Her brother, lying there in a pool of crimson liquid, flat dead eyes staring up at her…Her fault.

Only it wasn't her brother this time. It was the man she loved. It was because she had said those horrible words. Even if they weren't necessarily for him he'd still heard her. Yet, he'd _still_ gone out of his way to protect her. Why? Why did it always have to happen like this?

Her mind kept on trying to reassure her, to tell her it would be okay. He was a Shinigami after all; he wouldn't die from something like this. And she could heal him. Everything would be okay.

But her heart didn't see it that way. It didn't want to agree.

"K-Kurosaki-kun, please don't go…wake up…"

He twitched. Orihime's heart stuttered. With a low grunt he pushed himself up off the ground and turned to face her, blood still covering the entire right half of his body which he had used to shield her against the vehicle. Her large chocolate eyes met with his. A black abyss laced with gold.

A twisted smirk spread across his ruined face. "…that's…a nice idea you had there, princess…" He spoke in a hoarse distorted whisper. "I wouldn't have thought…that the one thing that could be beat the King…would be a car…or, I guess I should say Horse instead now…huh Queenie?"

---------

When the driver of the vehicle final came to and recalled what had happened, he quickly reached for his cell phone and dialled 911 as he hopped out of the vehicle. He found himself unable to continue however when he saw what lay before him.

No one, no bodies, nothing but blood.

* * *

_I've been told that this one was confusing. So, some vague explanation; Earlier on Orihime had told Shiro to stay away, then later, For some reason, Ichigo tried to save Orihime from being hit by a car. Of course this reminds her of the time she lost her brother and she's loosing it just a bit. Shirosaki takes over, Orihime is horrified and then it cuts out. When it says there was no one there it's because Shiro has already whisked her away (to a place my inner pervert likes to hang out on a daily basis). That is all._


	8. What She Tastes Like

He screamed angrily and swung his sword down again on the small crater that had begun to form in the colourless building. Sharp, heavy amounts of rain pounded against the already soaked form of the hollow, the cold wetness piercing deep into his core. His white shihakusho was clinging to his skin, weighing him down greatly. He cursed and crashed his blade down a final time before he finally collapsed in a heap on the rubble he'd created out of the building's side. He buried his face in his arms with a growl knowing it would do him no good to shield him from the rain. Water dripped down from his matted white hair, down his face and off his eyelashes.

Every time, every god damned time…Why was his King such a fool? How could anyone possibly be so stupid!

"Dammit…" he cursed in futility. She was his, she belonged to him, and stupid Ichigo had let some Arrancar take her away. Brainless idiot!

It had only taken him a month to completely screw up both their lives. One fucking month! He figured as much that Ichigo would need a reminder not to get them both killed but to protect Hime? Not even Ichigo had come off to him as _that_ stupid. But of course, this was Ichigo so failure was to be expected.

Now she was Aizen's. The thought made his skin crawl. The thought of him touching her threw him over the edge. He wanted to break in there right then and tear his throat out. He'd tear his limbs off one by one, paint the world in a nice new shade of red. After he was finished he'd run Zangetsu deep into his skull and crush the rest of remains under his feet, just like he planned to do to the King when he got Hime back. Ulquiorra too, would die. He'd tear the hearts out of anyone who stood in his way and if they were hollows their blood would be his.

He licked his lips. They didn't taste like rain. Not even of the blood that would soon be flowing across his fingers after he killed all those fools. No, they tasted like her.

He grinned despite himself. All the times he'd claimed her, she had always said _his_ name at some point. There was no getting around it, he could try and beat it out of her all he liked; She was like the King in that sense. Still, she tasted so good. He couldn't help himself. She made him hungry. And she was always as innocent as the first time. He would tell her things and deeper and deeper he planted those seeds of doubt, slowly untangling her weary mind. _His Queen…_

It was funny how his efforts paid off. He hadn't expected to be back so fast after being defeated, especially with Ichigo draining his power day in and day out. But she had healed him.

_"If I could have five lifetimes…"_

Of all the irony; professing her love to Ichigo and healing him. He didn't believe in coincidences. She knew, maybe not consciously, but she knew what she was doing. _Instinct..._

She belonged to him. There was no changing that. Any mark or bruise he left her could be healed easily but the mark on her mind was permanent. Not even Ichigo could change that. He had already won.

Slowly, his power was returning. He was gaining control. By the time they arrived in Hueco mundo to take her back he should be ready and then he could meet his Queen once more. His only regret was that there would be no more rain. It would've been far more satisfying if Ichigo could have a taste of his own medicine after the hollow locked him away in the inner world's depths to rot and die. Still, he had one advantage over him. He would never know what she tasted like.

* * *

_Sound like the first drabble? That's because it is. Kind of. I wrote this drabble in the same context as the first (only in the first Hime had never met Hichi) but at a different point in the story (It was made for a drabble contest a couple monthes ago). This one is set at the point where Orihime first leaves to go to Hueco Mundo. At this point he is very much a hollow. However at the point of the first drabble, Ichigo has lost his fight with Ulquiorra and BullIchigo begins to make his rise. According to popular perception and fan theories, Ichigo and Shiro merged at this moment, as not too long before Ichigo had claimed to be becoming more hollow. However, in that context (and according to another theory that is not my own), if Ichigo has become more hollow what does that mean for his hollow half? It means that Shiro's becoming more human. I'm not sure if it is true or not but I found it rather interesting. I thought to change the style of the drabble to better match the situation and I wanted to point out that underneath the bloodthirsty exterior he really is just an Ichigo who's lost everything._

_This particular drabble, however, is all darkness. Look and compare if you like. ^^_

_And that is the end of the all-at-once updates._


	9. Over

His voice continued to resound in her ears long after he escaped from her. She could feel his hands trailing all over her body, reaching around her neck, choking, then caressing her cheek but never getting close enough for her to kiss the invisible lips. His sardonic grin was burned into her vision so no matter where she looked he was there, but then he disappeared in an instant, cutting the heart that she couldn't believe was still beating, just like it had when she'd wanted him to go.

He was gone now.

She couldn't speak, she couldn't breathe. Why? She wanted him to go hadn't she? Of course she never wanted for him to take Ichigo with him, but an escape from his cruel ways had been something she'd wished for over and over between the sobs and gasps that had escaped her bruised lips time and time again when he claimed them.

It was true then. Just like he'd told her from the beginning, she was his, and she would slowly fade away to join him where he was.

And Ichigo. Her promise that she would love him for five lifetimes, she thought they would be her own. Rather than making a promise she'd made a curse- she knew now. His first lifetime, his human lifetime, the one in which they first met, then his second lifetime, when he became a substitute shinigami-that one was so short, she wished she'd done more for him. Then, as _he_ had told her, his third lifetime, the one in which Ichigo regained his shinigami powers and _he_ was born. Also the one in which she made her promise-the curse. His fourth lifetime, the shortest of them all, it ended the same way as the third; because of her. And then his fifth and final lifetime…

She could see it coming before it arrived. Like a runaway train, her whole world derailed at that moment.

He called her his little doll once. In a strange way she realised he had never been more right. She was the horrible china doll, trapped behind the barrier of glass, the one barrier she couldn't slip through. She beat against the glass over and over, until her hands bled. It was always the same; everyone could see her, she could see everyone else, but no one could touch her. She could reach however far she liked but the person she was reaching for always slipped away before they could touch. There was always that glass wall between them.

She honestly hadn't meant for this to happen though. It was slightly ironic. If she were a little more like him she would've laughed. She wasn't wearing a seatbelt when the car in front of her had hit the brakes. She never bothered to anymore, but now all the scolding she had given to the others, including Ichigo, for not wearing a seatbelt had lashed onto her and her body crashed through the wall of glass.

The broken shards dug into her side and she would've been cold, she thought, but the warm pooling blood had reached all the way to her motionless spirit body from its corporeal counterpart. She stared at herself, vision blurry, hearing voices both living and, she was sure, dead. It could've been strangers, it could've been Tatsuki or Rukia or Ishida or Chad or any of her nakama. It made no difference. The voices that had haunted since that day their possessors were killed-even they would not reach her.

He told her how he thought everyone should always anticipate the end if there was ever a beginning. She'd been ready. She had been ready before she'd hit the glass, before she'd gotten into the car in the first place. She'd been ready before she had screamed for them not to, that Ichigo was still in there, that they couldn't kill him, before she'd finally accepted that she loved them both, before she'd seen him die for the last time. It went far before then, even before the day she met _him_.

He claimed her as his, taken her apart, and stolen everything. She denied it. She loved Ichigo. He said that they were both hollow though she would've let him tear her heart from her chest for all she cared anymore. But it was always a 'would've' never a 'did'. Because it was like he said "We are all born dead"; from the beginning it had been already over. Already over…

She felt something warm press against her forehead.

* * *

She could hear voices. Vague sounds of arguing, the words becoming clearer with each passing second.

"…Told you so."

"Shut-up! This-she's still so young! She shouldn't have already…"

"…Died? What're you so upset about? We got to have her again extra early." A hand brushed her arm and Orihime's heart lurched forward suddenly. She almost opened her eyes right then but she kept them shut. She had to be sure it wasn't a dream. She knew those voices but she had to be sure they were really there and not in her mind.

"You sick demented monster, I would've been there to protect her if you hadn't stolen my body."

"Hey! Whoa! Wait a minute! _We_ were protecting her that time! And _your_ Shinigami and Vizard 'allies' are the ones that teamed up to kill us, who, by the way, would've succeeded in wiping us both from existence where it not for the fact that we were hollow at the time, which was actually all your fault anyway."

"How was it my fault? You were the hollow half back then!"

"Yeah, says Mr. I'm-becoming-more-hollow/I'm-an-idiot-who-doesn't-listen-to-people-when-they-tell-me-not-to-die-instead-forcing-that-same-poor-shmuck-to-fuse-with-me-every-time-I-get-injured-and-a-little-over-protective-of-Hime-during-a-battle. But no, you're absolutely right. It was _all_ my fault. I planned the whole thing, right up to getting stabbed through the skull and sublimated. Hell, I even decided the two of us should go into hiding for no apparent reason other than fact that I-meaning you- am a moron. Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna reap my long deserved reward of having my princess back."

"Touch her and I'll kill you."

She couldn't wait any longer. She opened her eyes and stared up into a pair of beautiful amber irises, the same as the ones she'd once fallen in love with, and another set of irises of an even lighter tone, molten gold, lit up with mischief though not sinister as she remembered. Neither pair was set in black. Both clearly evidenced their being alive. Her heart stuttered painfully back to life. _It wasn't over yet._

"Kurosaki…kun? And…hollow-kun?"

The said 'hollow' turned on his identical smacked him. "Way to go moron, you woke her up!" He turned back to Orihime with a grin. "Anyway, nice ta' see ya' again, Princess! Welcome to Rukongai!"

* * *

_Ok, ok, I lied. _This_ is the last of the old drabble flood. Everything from here on out will be new stuff, I promise. This was made for a drabble contest from a while ago(that I unfortunately didn't submit it to on time). The prompt for this drabble was 'Already Over' (as in the song by Red). Despite going over the word limit I think I kind of missed the point of it. And really, only the first part was based on the prompt, the rest was just random crack. Warning: there may be some confusion and mistakes. I originally wrote this at 3:00 am._

_I hope to turn this into a full-fledged fic later on when I'm not so busy with other things and I've finished my 'Juxtaposed' fic. Until then, this will remain a confusing and hopefully enjoyable drabble. _

_Reviews are all inspiring. Feed a hungry writer today._


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